


In Hell, I'll Be In Good Company

by teddybearbundy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Demon Dean, Demon!Dean AU, Depictions of Death, F/M, Fear, Implied Character Death, M/M, Mentions of Blood, Murder, Other, Reader Death, deanmon, talk of blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-01 20:48:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15781830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teddybearbundy/pseuds/teddybearbundy
Summary: (Demon!Dean AU) You and Sam tried to save Dean, to make him human again,but when Dean had escaped nothing was able to stop him from killing you or Sam.Warnings: Implied death (well murder) of Sam Winchester, Reader Death,Somewhat graphic detail of blood and use of a hammer. Demon Dean has no remorse.





	In Hell, I'll Be In Good Company

**Author's Note:**

> This work was somewhat inspired by the song “In Hell, I’ll be in Good Company” by The Dead South and the gif found on google.  
> I am sorry for any grammar or spelling errors I might have missed in my check.
> 
> _New Note: I have had a couple of suggestions about writing chapter two, so consider it done. Should be added soon._  
>  _New Note: Edited for grammar issues and spelling._

You could hear the sound of him walking down the hall, his boots thudding against the pavement with a deep sound that echoed off the wall. You could listen to the noise of metal dragging against the walls, hitting the occasional uneven notch or tiles that reminded you of what he was carrying. You pictured the hammer in the red emergency lights of the hallway, the way the blood looked black and thick against it. You could smell the blood all along the floor, and the walls, the mixing of iron and smell of being underground seemed to mix nicely, and yet it made you sick to your stomach. You could still hear the sounds of Sam screaming in your ears, even though he had long since stopped. 

As Demon Dean came closer to where you hid, you could hear him start to whistle. The tune was jaunty, catchy, almost happy. You could practically put in the guitar with it, but that didn't make you feel any better. It only made you more nervous, your hair starting to stand on edge. He was looking for you in every nook and cranny; eventually, he would find you, but a small part of you wanted to hope that this was all just a bad dream. It wasn't supposed to go like this. You and Sam were supposed to save Dean from this nightmare. It was too late, though, and Dean liked what he was, and he wasn't willing to give it up so easily. 

The whistling starts to get closer, the sound of his boots louder. You are quick to move your hands over your mouth, hoping to muffle your breathing. Maybe he wouldn't hear you. Perhaps he would walk away, and that would give you the chance to get away. You look at the crack under the closet door to see his boots stop, facing the door. You feel your heart pounding in your chest like it's going to just explode with anxiety! You scurry back, pushing your back against the closet wall, praying that anyone would come and save you. 

As tears start to stream down your face, the closet door is ripped open, and you are left looking up at Dean. His glossy black eyes looking back at you and he smiles, his hand gripping at the handle of the hammer. You see it covered in blood, his hands drenched in it. It drips off the metal and is black in the light, thick, and the smell is strong. You feel like you can almost see bits of Sam's hair and brain against it. Dean's scent mixed with the smell of blood hits your nose as he steps closer and you tense, looking up at him with pleading eyes. You want to speak, maybe to beg for your life, but you should have known better. You should have tried to talk Sam out of this. Now, look at everything. Sam was dead, and you were about to die. Dean felt no remorse, in his mind, his actions were justified, and you asked for this the moment you tried to make him human again. 

Dean gets to your eye level, crouching in front of you, his arms resting on his knees as he dangles the weapon in front of him between his legs swinging it slightly. He looks at you and the tears that were starting to stain your face, he watches the way your eyes begin to bloodshot from it, the way your cheek and nose begin to turn red and puffy. Had this been the old Dean, he would have embraced you into his arms, making you feel safe and wanted, maybe even giving you a kiss to let you know he uniquely cared about you. But this wasn't that Dean anymore. His head tilts to the left a bit, and his brow furrows before he starts to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth. 

Tisk. Tisk. Tisk.   
"Y/N, what were you thinking?" 

You don't answer, the words won't come. You are paralyzed before Dean. This amuses him and yet, he's annoyed by it. When he asked you a question, he expects you to answer it. With a sudden jerk, he slams the hammer's head down against the floor. The sound of metal hitting concrete hits your ears sharply and suddenly, causing you to tense and jerk away from him, covering yourself before you start to sob a little more hysterically. 

"I---I'm sor -- ry, Dean. I'm s-s-sorry." You plead with him as much as you can, but the words are broken up by your tears and sobbing. His jaw clenches, and he watches you. All he wanted to do was be left alone, to live his new life as he pleased and how he wanted. He was done with being a hunter, this made him feel much stronger, more powerful, and he no longer feared what was going to happen to him every day. 

Dean blinks, the blackness fading from his eyes and you watch as you see that familiar bright green hues of his natural look. For a moment, you are almost fooled by the idea that maybe Dean would take pity on you as he reaches for your face, and his hand gently brushes against your cheek. At that moment, you just gaze at him, but the longer you looked, the more you realize that he isn't the same person he used to be behind those eyes. The tears from your eyes don't stop, and the only thing you can think about was all the good times that you did have with Dean, the love you had for him, and why you wanted to save him in the first place. That man was gone now and before you stood a cold-blooded killer who felt nothing for you anymore. This was Dean, working through the aggression of an old life to move on with his new one.

Before any more words could be exchanged, Dean's hand moves to grip at your throat. You quickly grab at his wrist in some desperate plead to break free, but you can't even get his fingers to budge let alone loosen a little bit. He squeezes so tightly that you feel the air start to cut off, your feet start to kick, and you watch as he shifts his weight balancing himself as his other hand brings the hammer above your head and he starts to swing down. 

At first, things don't cut out, you don't die right away, you feel the warmth of your blood start to run down your face. You look at Dean with utter terror, your eyes going wide, and the grip on your throat was no longer a thought in your mind. Your body tenses before you start to convulse in his hand and he brings the hammer down again and again. The last memory you make is your blood splattering against his face and everything cutting out of your vision in a slow blur of black and red. 

Dean feels your body go lifeless under his hand and he lets go of your neck finally, watching your body slump to the side with your skull in a bloody broken mess. He pushes himself up from the kneeling position he was in and turns to walk away from you, leaving your body on the closet floor of a home he never intended on coming back to. Dean walks away, his blood covered body bathed in the red lights of the hallways. He taps the hammer gently against the side of his leg in the same beat of the song he had been whistling before as his voice softly carried down the hallway in an off-key tone, "After I count down, three rounds, in Hell I'll be in good company."


End file.
